


The Only Choice

by jadewolf



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 07:06:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5617771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadewolf/pseuds/jadewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate to Season 5A.  The solution to saving Emma isn't in the Enchanted Forest, it's right there in Storybrooke.  The others may not believe that waking Rumplestiltskin up will help, but Henry does.</p>
<p>Mostly gen, some minor side-shipping of Rumbelle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Season 5 has been awfully disappointing, to say the least. This idea to rework the season came to me in a dream and I hammered it all out in one very late night at a hotel in the middle of the High Desert on New Years Eve.
> 
> This is the first fanfic I've written in years, so please be gentle with me. :)

Belle watched as the heroes ran out the door of the shop, chasing the swirling mass of escaped darkness out into the street.  As quickly as everything began, she was suddenly left behind.  Alone with the comatose body of her husband collapsed on the floor and a half-dead Apprentice, also collapsed on the floor, Belle felt a bit at a loss for what to do.  It was all too much.

She was kneeling on the floor between the two fallen men, still staring starkly in shock when the heroes burst back in.  Immediately she was in a whirlwind of yelling.  Regina was shouting at Hook. Hook was shouting at Regina.  Henry was crying.  Charming was shouting over both Hook and Regina, trying to break up their argument.  Only Snow was silent, wide-eyed and clutching the dagger as if her life depended on it.  Emma was not among them.

Belle looked up from the floor at the rowdy hoard and blinked at them owlishly.  This seemed to refocus their ire on her and she suddenly found herself the center of the whirlwind.  Angry accusations and finger pointing at her unconscious husband were accompanied by demands that she wake him up so he could fix this mess--though they didn't say what exactly that mess was.

Nevertheless, at that she managed to snap out of her shock enough to speak up.  "I don't know _how_ ," she blurted in anguish, her voice thin and reedy with stress.    Then she pointed at the fading Apprentice on the floor nearby, "he's the only one who does!"

They suddenly seemed to remember him and the fact that he was probably past help and about to die.  Regina got down beside him and her hand glowed as she did some sort of magic, perhaps to assess his condition or to try and bring him around.  Whatever she did, it at least prodded him back enough to whisper something to her.  What he said to Regina, Belle couldn't hear.  With a rattling gasp, the Apprentice pulled forth a wand and handed it to Regina.  She took it from him with a nod.  He returned the nod, then his hand fell back limply to the floor and he moved no more.

Faintly, Belle heard Snow begin to sob and bury her face in David's shoulder.  Regina rose from the ground and looked at all assembled.  Her face was set and there was steel in her voice.  "Emma's in the Enchanted Forest.  He says we have to find Merlin to free her from the darkness.  I can use his wand to open a doorway to there."  Her eyes grew hard and resolute.  "I'm going."

Snow seemed to pull herself together.  "Then I'm coming too," she said firmly.  "I'm not losing my daughter.  Not again."

"You're bloody well not going without me too," Hook snapped, glaring at Regina as if this were her fault as much as Rumplestiltskin's.

Belle felt she ought to speak up.  She ought to say something--anything--but it was Henry who actually did.  "Wait," he said, still sniffling slightly and wiping at his tears.  "Why do we need Merlin?  Mr. Gold knows more than anybody about being the Dark One.  He's got to know something we can do to help mom."

Regina's gaze softened as she looked at her son.  "Henry, this is his fault to start with and even if he does wake up, he’s never cared to help anyone but himself."  She sent a sideways glare at the unconscious body on the floor.

"You don't know that," Henry stubbornly insisted.  "He's not the Dark One now, I bet he'll help."

Regina shook her head.  "I've known him a long time.  He's not going to help.  And besides, who knows if he's even going to wake up at all."

At this, Henry looked stricken, but he didn't argue further.  Instead, he asked, "then can I go with you to look for Merlin?"

"No!" was the immediate reply from both Regina and Snow in unison.  They looked at each other askance, agreement apparently being a foreign concept.  Regina continued, "it's not safe, sweetie.  I'm sorry."

"David will look after you here," Snow said, picking up where Regina left off.  "We'll just be a few days, I'm sure."

Belle, mutely watching this all transpire, was surprised to hear Henry agree without further argument.  There was a faint light in his eyes, however, that said he wasn't defeated.  She'd seen that look before, but before she could comment Regina turned to her and spoke.

"Belle, you should come with us too.  You were married to the Dark One, after all.  We can use your insight."

Belle blinked, but her eyes hardened and she shot back, "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what is going on here."

Regina looked at her in vague surprise, as if she had forgotten that Belle was an actual person rather than a tool to be used.  Nevertheless, she recovered quickly and gave Belle a quick summary of the situation.  The darkness had tried to attach itself to Regina, but Emma had instead took it on voluntarily to save the town.  Then she had vanished, leaving only the dagger behind.  Snow held it out to show her.  Rumplestiltskin's name was gone, replaced in the same ornate lettering by "Emma Swan."

Belle glanced over at the comatose form of her husband, still on the floor where the Apprentice had left him.  Regina caught the look and smoothly stepped in.  "He's not going anywhere.  We'll have someone keep an eye on him.  The fairies will help."

Snow chimed in as well, plaintively entreating her.  "We _need_ your help, Belle.  Please come with us."

That was all it took.  After all, Belle wanted so badly to be needed and to be a hero as well.  How could she refuse?

As she agreed to go with them, she didn't notice Henry's eyes upon her.  Nor did she see the reproving expression on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

They left early the next morning at first light. Henry's mother used the Apprentice's wand to open a doorway to the Enchanted Forest. The richly decorated wooden doorway still stood in the mayor's office, closed but awaiting their return. His mother had gone through it, along with his Grandma Snow, Killian, and Belle. He and his grandpa had watched them go.

Henry was still puzzled as to why Belle hadn't stayed behind with Mr. Gold. After all, weren't they supposed to be True Love? He knew they'd had some problems, but didn't True Love have to be fought for? The Book was pretty clear on all that. So why wasn't she staying to try and wake him up? She hadn't even tried True Love's kiss, Henry realized with disappointment.

Well, if Belle wasn't going to try and wake him up, Henry sure was. He'd known his mother would not let him go with them to find his other mother. While he was sad to miss out on going to the Enchanted Forest, he truly believed that the solution was right here in Storybrooke. If only he could wake his other grandfather up, he _knew_ that Mr. Gold could help Emma. His mother might not agree, but Henry had read all of his Book and it was obvious to him that Rumplestiltskin was a good man before he became the Dark One. And he had loved Henry's father fiercely, too.

Thinking about Neal made Henry's heart clench. He'd barely gotten to know his father before he was gone--and even then, Henry hadn't known it was his father they were burying at the time. His father would have understood what it was like to have a parent become the Dark One. He would have been able to help bring Emma back, too, Henry figured. But his father was dead. Henry now wished he had talked to Mr. Gold more about Neal, but things happened so fast after his memories were returned and then Belle had sent Mr. Gold away, so he'd never gotten the chance to ask. That was just one more reason to find a way to wake him up, Henry resolved.

It was with all these thoughts in mind that Henry had snuck out while his grandpa was taking care of Baby Neal. He made a bee line for the pawn shop, knowing there had to be _something_ in there that could wake up it's owner. The closed sign was in the window and the door was locked. That wasn't going to stop Henry, though. He fished out a lockpick from his pocket--it had belonged to his father and he’d found it in Neal’s things after his memories returned. It took him a little while and several failed tries, but he eventually managed to get the door unlocked. He grinned brightly when the lock finally turned over. "Guess lockpicking must run in the family," he said to the empty air.

The door opened with no additional magical guards or traps. Henry briefly wondered if any protective spells had fizzled out when Mr. Gold ceased to be the Dark One, or if the spells had let him in because he was related to the owner. 

The shop was mostly dark and quiet in the front room, but Henry didn't dare turn on the light or open a window to let any light in. Someone might spot him and make him go back home. Instead, he just let his eyes adjust and started looking around--wondering just how he was going to find something useful and if he would even recognize it if he did.

The storefront was mostly filled with knicknacks. There were some guitars on the walls, various cups and flatware in display cases, antique toys, vases, and other bric-a-brac were clustered on shelves everywhere. Henry didn't think Mr. Gold would leave any serious magical items on display or for sale, so he after a brief look around, he decided to check out the backroom instead.

He pushed aside the curtain in the doorway and took a quick step back in surprise. Mr. Gold was laying on the cot in the backroom. Startled, it took Henry a moment to remember that they'd left him there after they took the Apprentice's body away. The fairies were supposed to be watching over him, but apparently they had elected not to and the room was otherwise unoccupied.

Henry took a step closer, peering curiously at his paternal grandfather that he honestly knew so little about beyond stories. Mr. Gold wasn't moving, not even to breathe. If Henry didn't know that the Apprentice had put a stasis spell on him, he might have mistaken his grandfather for dead. Henry suddenly found himself wondering if Mr. Gold would have rather stayed dead, instead of having Neal die to bring him back. The unexpected thought left him crestfallen, but Henry determinedly pushed the sadness aside.

"I'm going to find a way to wake you up," he told his slumbering grandfather, "and then you can help Emma. And you can tell me about my father. And we can all be a family."

Resolute, he started searching the backroom for anything that might help.


	3. Chapter 3

There was darkness.  Silence.  Emptiness.  And an endless void.

***

It had been nine days since his family went through the portal to bring his mother home.  Henry was worried and his grandpa told him that the Enchanted Forest was a big place, so it might take a while to find Merlin.  Henry wasn't a simple child, however, and he could tell that David was worried too.

Nevertheless, Henry spent every afternoon searching the pawn shop for something to help.  Nobody ever came to check in on Mr. Gold, so he had the place to himself.  He'd found a collection of very old handwritten notebooks on fragile, yellowed paper in a wooden chest earlier in the week.  He read them and found them to be full of truly dark and frightening magic--things that made him shiver just to read about.  It wasn't until he got through several of them that he realized that Rumplestiltskin himself had written and researched them.  He cast a wary glance at his sleeping grandfather, again realizing how much there was he didn't know about the man.  He really hoped his mother wasn't going to start trying such scary things as the Dark One too.

Shaking loose from such thoughts, he'd put those notes away and switched instead to some thick, dusty books on magic that were stashed away in a cabinet.  These seemed lighter, or at least more neutral, in tone.  It was one of these books that Henry was reading through today. 

The language in them was archaic and dated, but it wasn't any worse than some of the books he'd been assigned in school.  He couldn't help but wish there was a search function, though.  It would be so much easier to find ways to wake someone up from stasis if he could just Google it.  Maybe he could convince Mr. Gold to let him scan these to digital format when he woke up.  It wouldn't be too--

His thoughts were interrupted when suddenly the book's pages started turning of their own accord.  Henry snatched his hands away and watched in wonder as pages began flipping rapidly, making a soft whispering sound like a deck of cards shuffling.

With a thump, the book stopped and fell open to a new page.  Henry leaned in to read it.

_ANIMAM MEVM EXCITATO_

_To revive one who has been lost, but not passed on._

Henry blinked in surprise.  How did the book know _exactly_ what he was looking for?  It seemed weird, but he’d think about that later.  For now, he read on with growing excitement.

_If thee soule has been divested from thee boddie, but thee boddie lives still, thee soule must be called back to thee host.  For this, ye must prepare a potion to draww the soule home and a potion to bind it back to the boddie._

Under this passage were two lists of ingredients.  Henry scanned them quickly.  He was pretty sure that his mother had most of this stuff in her vault.  He'd have to raid her supplies, but that didn't really bother him too much.  It wouldn't be the first time he'd snuck in there.

He read further, then winced.  On closer inspection, both potions called for blood--from both the subject and the potion maker.  Henry found himself nervous now.  What if something bad happened like when Neal brought back Mr. Gold?

_To summon the soule home, prepare thee potion.  The summoner must drink thee first potion to call the lost soule.  Then the binding potion must be administered to the lost soule's boddie._

There was no warning about what might happen to the person who drank the first potion.  Didn't his grandfather say all magic came with a price?  What was the price of this?  Henry wasn't sure.  It was a big risk, but this book wasn't full of dark magic like some of the others.  Maybe it was safe?

Henry still wasn't sure, but he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the ingredients list.  He'd think about it overnight, then decide in the morning.


	4. Chapter 4

There was darkness.  And silence.  And emptiness.  But somewhere in the endless moonless midnight, a faint light flickered into existence.

*** 

Henry had made up his mind.  He was going to do this.  He had to.  His mother needed help and his grandfather was the one who could do it.  He believed it _would_ work.  He _believed_ he would be safe.

Firm in his convictions, Henry set out to do what needed to be done.  Getting into his mother's vault would have been tricky in times past, except that she had adjusted her protective spells of late to let him in as well in case of emergencies--which seemed to be quite often these days—since it was so well protected against everyone else..  Part of him knew his mother would be very unhappy that he used her trust to steal---uh, borrow!--some potion ingredients, but he figured she'd understand--eventually, anyway.  It was for a good cause, he consoled himself.

He gathered what he needed quickly and without disturbing as much else as he could manage.  Supplies in hand, he headed for the pawn shop.

Once there, he flipped to the bookmarked page in the ancient tome and began.  He took his time, making sure to follow the directions absolutely to the letter.  He hated to think what a mistake would cause.

Working with such care, he neared the final steps after a little over an hour.  Next came the part Henry was most nervous about--the blood.  There was no putting it off, though, so he took a breath and went to the front of the shop to collect a knife of some sort.  In one of the display cases, he found an old ivory handled folding knife.  The handle was well worn, but when he flipped the blade out he found that it was still razor sharp.  It would do.

Now it came to it.  Henry steeled himself, then drew the blade across the palm of his left hand.  He winced at the sharp bite of the blade and his eyes watered, but at least it was quick and the thin cut began to ooze blood right away.  He squeezed his fist over the first potion and watched the blood drip into it.  Almost immediately, the potion sizzled and changed color--turning a burnished red-gold shade.  Letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, Henry absently wiped the blade on his jeans.  He walked over to Mr. Gold's prone form and lifted his grandfather's hand over the second potion.

“Sorry about this, Mr. Gold," he whispered to the silence, cutting a short slice across the unconscious man's hand.  His eyes flicked to his grandfather's face, but there was no movement or other indication he felt the cut at all.  Blood slowly fell into the second potion.  Henry watched in fascination as this potion also bubbled, turning to a fizzy dark blue.  It suddenly occurred to Henry that he had just done magic--all on his own!  He ought to be more excited, he thought, but he was on a mission here--he'd have to be excited later.

He picked up the first potion and sniffed it warily.  It had a strange smell that he couldn't identify, something odd and metallic.  If he tried hard enough, however, he could almost imagine it smelled faintly of cinnamon under that weird scent.  He should be scared, but no.. he _believed_ this would work.  It _would_ work.

"Well, here goes nothing," he said aloud.  He raised the glass and tipped it back, drinking it all at once.  His eyes watered once again and he coughed violently after finishing it off.  It tasted acrid and bitter, burning his throat the whole way down like that sip of rum that Killian had let him try once behind his mothers' backs.  It made him tingle all over, too--a somewhat unsettling feeling.

No stopping now, though.  He picked up the second potion and paused to consider how he was going to get Mr. Gold to drink it.  He settled on just pulling Mr. Gold up higher onto pillow and tipping his head slightly.  Carefully, he poured the potion down his grandfather's throat--taking care not to let any spill.

"Okay," he thought out loud, "now I just have to summon you back."  He thought a moment, not entirely sure how to do that.  The spellbook didn’t specify.  "Well, I guess we'll just try this."  He took a breath.  "Mr. Gold?" he ventured.  "C'mon, Mr. Gold.  Come back."

Nothing happened.

"Come on.  Please.  Grandpa?" he tried again, giving Mr. Gold a gentle shake.

He looked at his grandfather's still form.  Still nothing.

A thought suddenly occurred to him.  After all, Mr. Gold wasn't his grandfather's real name.

"Rumplestiltskin?" he tried.  Then more firmly, his voice a stronger call.  "Rumplestiltskin!"


	5. Chapter 5

There was darkness.  And silence.  And emptiness.  And an endless void.

And then there was a voice.

A voice calling his name.

His name.

 _Rumplestiltskin_.

Air suddenly filled his lungs and sensation rushed back into his body.  Light crept around his eyelids and he heard a boy's voice calling his name.  Awareness slowly returned to him and he cracked his eyes open.

The room was blurry and overbright to his eyes, cloudy with prolonged disuse, but he could make out the hazy figure of a young boy with messy hair and brown eyes.

"Bae?" he rasped, voice scratchy and hoarse.

He blinked a few more times to clear his vision and then saw the boy for who he was.  His heart clenched painfully as he realized his mistake.  Bae was gone forever.  Forever.

Yet, he warmed slightly to know that it was his grandson by his side.  "Henry," he breathed.

Henry, whose face had been uncertain at first, broke into a wide grin.  "You're awake!"

Fog clearing from his head slowly, Rumplestiltskin nodded slightly.  "So I am," he said.  He glanced around, taking stock.  He was on the cot in the backroom of his shop, alone with only Henry there.  Henry was still smiling at him, giving him time to get his bearings.

Something was different.  Something was...

He sat up sharply, which made his head spin for a moment.  He was alive and... still himself.  More importantly, the voices were gone!  The heavy weight he'd carried for centuries, dragging him down into an abyss of darkness--it was all gone!  He looked to Henry in shock.  "I'm not the Dark One anymore," he said in bewilderment.  "What.. what happened?  How...?"

Henry's smile faltered a bit and he looked away.  "After you passed out, the Apprentice tried to pull the darkness out of you and trap it in the Hat.  It didn't work.  It got loose and killed him.  Then it went after my mom--Regina--and when it tried to take her over, my other mom--Emma--took it on instead to save us all."  His smile was gone now, replaced by a look worry and despair.  Rumplestiltskin felt something stir in him that he hadn't felt--or even been able to feel--in ages, true regret and deep sympathy.  He'd destroyed Baelfire's childhood as the Dark One, and now Henry was set to suffer a similar fate.

Henry went on.  "Then she disappeared.  Only the dagger was left behind."  He blinked a few times, clearly holding back tears.  "Her name is on it.  I saw it before Grandma Snow picked it up."  A quiet sniffle.  "The Apprentice told my mom that it had sent her to the Enchanted Forest.  They're there right now, trying to find Merlin to save mom."

He looked back at Rumplestiltskin now, "but I thought you might be able to help better than Merlin.  After all, you were the Dark One for a really long time.  And nobody even knows where Merlin is.”  Henry's brown eyes were large and round, looking at him with hope.  "Can you help her?  Will you?"  He paused, then tested the term out tentatively, "Grandpa?"

It was to absorb at once, but Rumplestiltskin's quick mind was already flashing through possibilities.  Without the dark voices dogging his thoughts, he found it was far easier to think and considerably less difficult to make proper choices.  "Of course, Henry," he was able to reply.  Agreement seemed effortless, rather than having to haul the words up from thick tar.  "I am sincerely sorry that this happened to your mother.  I am to blame and I'll do what I can to help to make it right."

The ease of offering assistance without demanding anything in return was surprising, even to Rumplestiltskin.  He had little time to think on that, however, as suddenly Henry was throwing his arms around him in a tight hug.  Rumple stiffened, partially in shock but also in faint alarm.  Since the torturous year during which Zelena had held the dagger, being touched had made him jumpy and set his skin crawling.  He forced himself to relax, a least by a tiny bit, and let his grandson hug him--uncomfortable though he may feel--and awkwardly gave Henry a small pat on the shoulder.

He was, however, a bit relieved when Henry released him.  Glancing around, he noticed the empty potions bottles and ingredient jars scattered around.  They weren't from his own supplies.  Concern struck him and he looked back to Henry.  "How did you wake me up?"

Henry's face lit up with excitement.  "Well, nobody else wanted to try, so I started looking through your shop to see if anything here could help.  I found some books and started reading them.  I wasn't finding much, though."  He looked thoughtful, "you know, if we scanned all these books into a computer it would be much easier to search!"  Rumplestiltskin looked aghast at the very notion, but Henry pressed on.  "But then this one book I was reading just flipped open by itself to exactly what I needed.  It was a couple potions.  I swiped--er, borrowed--the ingredients from mom's vault and..."  Henry trailed off at Rumplestiltskin's horrified expression.  "What..?"

He was on his feet in an instant, but then nearly collapsed as his leg refused to hold his weight.  "Damn it," he muttered under his breath, grabbing at the cot for balance.  No longer the Dark One, his old limp had returned.  Surprisingly, Henry was quick to find and hand him his cane.  He took it gratefully and stepped over to the book open on the workbench.  Swiftly, he scanned the page and read over the spell.  When he got to the ingredients, he glanced down at his left hand--a thin cut across the palm.  His eyes flicked to Henry, who shared a similar cut on his own palm.  Disquieted, he read through the rest of the instructions and turned quickly to Henry, kneeling down to look him in the eye.

"Are you okay?" he demanded.  "Do you feel oddly?  Sick?  Lightheaded?"  He looked into the boy's eyes, searching for any indication of trouble, reaching out for magic by reflex to see if there was some lingering side effect waiting to afflict his grandson.

"No!" Henry blurted, suddenly a little frightened.  "Is something wrong?!"

Realizing he was scaring the boy, he toned it down a bit.  "That was very dangerous, Henry.  Dangerous and foolish," he said, gentler now.  "All magic comes with a price.  And a spell like this could have, and probably would have, killed you.  This is very ancient magic.  Ancient and unpredictable."

Henry looked on the edge of tears.  "I'm sorry, I just... nobody else wanted to try.. and I have to help my mom."

"You have to be careful," he told him.  "You are still young and there's much you have to learn.  But caution should be first.  Before you try anything like this again, you need to ask someone--Regina or even myself--first."

Henry nodded now, wiping at his eyes, and Rumplestiltskin felt sorry for scaring the boy, but he wasn't entirely sure how Henry had survived.  His thoughts sped ahead, curious.  Could it have been their blood link that spared him?  Or was it something else?  The boy had the Heart of the Truest Believer.  Could that have spared him?  He'd felt like there was something here he was missing.  He’d have to look into it later and--

Another sudden realization crashed down on him.  He could still reach magic!  He had used it to check Henry's condition, almost without even knowing it.  How could this be?  He wasn't the Dark One anymore, after all.  Shouldn't the magic have gone with it?

Experimentally, he looked to a candle nearby and willed it to ignite.  Nothing happened.  He narrowed his eyes, concentrating harder on the candle and digging deep, focusing angrily on the wick.  A sputter of sparks flickered, then died.  Hmm.

He wasn't the Dark One anymore, but that didn't mean centuries of study and practice were gone with it.  He tried a different tactic.  As the Dark One, rage and fury was at the root of most of his magic.  Things were different now and perhaps other emotions could be focused more easily.  He grasped at the concern he'd felt for the safety of his grandson--Bae's son--and held onto it.  He willed the candle to light.  A small flame slowly grew into shape.

"You still have magic!" Henry exclaimed, an astute observation.

Rumplestiltskin smiled an actual smile.  "Indeed so.  Seems that studying it for three centuries wasn’t for nothing.”

It made sense, anyway.  Centuries of study couldn’t be erased and anyone could do minor magic with a little training.  It went without saying that accessing magic would be much different now, though.  He lacked the vast reserve of easy power that came with being the Dark One--most likely he'd never be able to perform any acts of greater magic again.  But centuries of study had left him with at least rudimentary ability to draw upon ambient magic to at least perform lesser forms.  It wasn't much, but it should prove sufficient to protect himself and perhaps even to help Henry.

"Does that mean you can save my mom?" Henry asked, hopeful again and echoing his own thoughts.

“It's rather limited," he cautioned, "but I think it'll be a help." 

Henry beamed, looking at him with trusting eyes so very much like Bae did long ago.  "Great!  Let's get to it!"

He had failed Bae in all the worst ways.  He had lost Belle's love with only himself to blame.  But here was his grandson, asking him for help with trust and belief in his heart.  How could he even contemplate refusing?


	6. Chapter 6

Belle emerged from the doorway last, stepping back into Storybrooke with her dress filthy and tattered around the edges.  Nothing had gone right in the Enchanted Forest and now things were far worse than they had been at the start.

The others were nowhere to be seen when she emerged from the portal, which slammed shut and winked out of existence behind her.  No one had waited for her.  The mayor's office, however, showed signs of their recent departure.  Scorch marks marred the walls and the desk was flipped over, with broken bits of frippery littering the floor.  

More exasperated than she could remember at the moment, she kicked at some scattered papers on the floor in frustration.  Her thoughts kept running through their misadventure in Camelot.

She had thought they genuinely wanted and needed her help, but it seemed all they wanted was someone to do the research yet again.  Things went poorly from the very start.  As soon as they were through the portal, Snow had used the dagger to summon Emma to them.  It was probably a poor choice, because Emma was raging mad to find herself controlled by her own mother.  Watching that scene unfold, Belle had felt a twinge of guilt.  She hadn't really stopped to think about how Rumple must have felt when she used the dagger on him to find the Snow Queen.  Granted, it was apparently fake all along, but she wondered if perhaps she should have tried some other means of convincing him first before attempting to force him body and soul with the dagger.  Beyond that, she couldn’t bring herself to even think about what had happened at the town line later.

The heroes, though, apparently had few qualms about it that she could discern.  They used it to keep Emma relatively docile, if silently furious, while they traveled to Camelot to find Merlin.  They even made Emma throw on a glamour to cover her scaly appearance as they traveled.  As much as Belle understood that bringing the Dark One, even in thrall, into a civilized kingdom might cause an unwelcome stir, it still sat ill with her and she said as much.

Her protests were more or less ignored.

Things did not improve once they made it to Camelot.  Turns out, Merlin was long gone and had been for centuries.  Someone had turned him into a tree ages ago--Belle sincerely hoped it hadn't been her wayward husband--and nothing they tried could de-arborize the ancient sorcerer.  Whoever the Apprentice had been communing with via cauldron, it apparently wasn’t Merlin--trees didn’t make good conversationalists..

Belle, however, had stumbled upon Merlin’s library of spellbooks.  She had excitedly relayed this information to the heroes, only to be sent off to search them alone.  She wasn't sure exactly what they were doing while she was ensconced in the library, but she had a feeling they were spending their time socializing (or bickering) with the local royalty.  There was definitely something off about Arthur and Guinevere, but she didn't have time to find out exactly what.

She was, however, thrilled to find a book amongst Merlin's collection that might have what they needed.  Eager to finally be able to help, she called them in as soon as she found something that seemed promising.  Unfortunately, by the time they arrived, she had discovered that the last part of the spell was stained with some faint brown liquid and completely illegible, therefore wholly useless.

Regina, however, was not dissuaded.  She had pointed out that it was only a few lines of notes that were blotted out.  The spell itself was included in it's completion.  They had been there for nearly two weeks now, Emma growing steadily angrier and continually looking for crafty new ways to reacquire the dagger all the while.  Needless to say, Regina was getting impatient and the whole crew was fraying a bit.

Against Belle's protests for patience and reason, Regina took the dagger from Snow and attempted the spell.

This was when things went downhill in a hurry.

Apparently those missing notes _were_ important, because rather than divesting the darkness from Emma, the spell instead split the power in half.  The separated half immediately attached itself to the spellcaster and Regina was consumed.  Now, rather than saving Emma, they had created _two_ angry half-Dark Ones.  It was utterly ridiculous and Belle was understandably upset that her advice had been ignored.  _Again_.

Of course, this had touched off a battle for supremacy.  Regina starting out holding the dagger, but it was tied to them both now and each wanted it for themselves--neither could control the other with it, but that made little difference.  The fighting started almost immediately--vicious and terrifying.  Belle now knew she had never really seen Rumple fully extend his Dark One powers.  Watching the two of them, even half-powered, go at each other was truly frightening.  Both were functionally immortal and neither cared for the collateral damage inflicted.  They had nearly laid waste to half the kingdom between them over the next six days.  Finally pushed beyond the point of reason, the Camelot royals had gathered a large coalition to force their whole party back through the portal to Storybrooke and be done with them.

And now here they were.  Or rather, here Belle was.  The others hadn't bothered to wait for her to emerge before setting off to do who knows what.  She was exhausted and frustrated and at the end of her rope in a way she'd never before experienced.  For the first time in her life, she simply didn't know what to do.

She blundered aimlessly down the hallway of the town hall building.  From the amount of things on fire in the building, she could only assume that Emma and Regina had elected to continue their grudge match here in Storybrooke.  Maybe she should go to the shop?  There might be something there that could help.  Besides, she should check on Rumple too.  David had assured her that the fairies would watch over her comatose husband, but some part of her knew that wasn't likely to be true.

Thus decided, she headed that way--picking her way through the wreckage of the town hall to the street.  She was relieved to note that the trail of destruction seemed to lead in a direction _away_ from the shop, so at least she wasn't likely to get caught in the crossfire.

To her surprise, there were lights on in the shop and the sign was flipped to "open."  She felt hope suddenly rekindle and flutter in her breast.  Could Rumple be awake?  She hadn't dare to hope he would recover so quickly.  Heart racing, she threw the door open and rushed in.  The front of the shop was empty, but she could hear voices in the back.  Hand trembling, she pushed aside the curtain.

He was awake!  Thank the gods, he was awake!

She was filled with relief and wanted nothing more than to rush into his arms and never let him go.  However, she stopped herself as she saw what he was doing.

He was leaned over some arcane object on the workbench, magic glowing faintly at his fingertips as he did something she couldn't quite identify with it.  Ancient leather-bound spellbooks were scattered around and some sort of potion bubbled away to the side.  At one end of the table was an object that filled her with ire once more--the Hat.  That damned Hat!

"Rumplestiltskin!" she demanded angrily.  "What are you doing with that Hat?"

His head jerked up abruptly and he dropped the artifact in his hands in astonishment.  "Belle!" he exclaimed.  There was warmth and softness in his eyes and he looked at her like a drowning man looks at land.  "You're here!"  He started around the workbench towards her.

She'd fallen for that false warmth before, though.  "I asked you a question!  _What are you doing with that Hat_?" she said again, her voice stern.

He looked perplexed, glancing at the workbench and then back to her.  "Belle," he soothed, "I'm not the Dark One anymore.  I don't have much magic, but if I focus it through an object of greater power..."

That did it!  "Power?" she breathed, aghast.  "Power!" she repeated then, sharper now and full of bitter disappointment.  "You're not even the Dark One anymore and it's still all about _power_.  What do you even need magic for anyway?!"

His eyes went wide and he put his hands up in a placating gesture.  "Belle, wait.  You don't understand."

"No," she said and she thought tears might be starting to form in her eyes.  "I think I understand just fine.  This really is who you are, isn't it?  You don't even have an excuse now!"

"Belle, if you would just listen--"

She cut him off, shaking her head.  "No, _you_ listen!  I've just spent weeks in Camelot, trying to help Emma and after all that things are even worse than before.  And I get back to find you still playing the same games!"  She shook her head again, more vehemently, and she unloaded all her built up frustration all at once.  "No, I'm done with all of this.  They wouldn't listen to me in Camelot and now Regina's consumed by the darkness too.  And it all comes back to you!  I.. I don't even know you."

Rumple looked absolutely devastated, but she refused to let that sway her now.  She'd chosen her course of action and--

"What...?" a small third voice chimed in shakily.  "What happened to my moms?"

She turned, wide-eyed, to see Henry sitting off to the side--a heavy book across his lap and tears gathering in his eyes.  Guilt crashed in on her.  This wasn't how Henry deserved to find out about what transpired in the Enchanted Forest.  She was upset and she had thoughtlessly hurt Rumple's grandson in her anger.

"Oh, Henry. I'm so sorry!" she blurted.  When had she strayed so far from who she used to be?  Suddenly, she wished she could go back to a time before Storybrooke--when it was just her and Rumple in the Dark Castle.  Things were so much simpler then.  How did it all go so wrong?

Sadly, she kneeled down in front of Henry in her dirty dress and bedraggled hair.  "Henry," she began softly, "Regina tried to pull the darkness out of Emma.  She was trying to save her, but something went wrong and it split the darkness in half instead.  The other half merged with Regina.  They're both alive, but things aren't looking good.  They're back here in Storybrooke now, but it might be best if you didn't see them just yet.  I'm not sure what can help them right now."

Henry's eyes were as wide as saucers and he looked terribly overwhelmed for such a young boy.  "But don't you see?" he said, "that's what we're doing.  Grandpa is trying to find a way to help Emma.  And I guess help them both now."

Belle wanted to believe that--she really did.  Right now, however, her trust and her very foundations were too shaken to take that kind of risk.  She shook her head.  "Henry, you need to go back to David right now.  Snow has probably told him everything and you need to talk to them about this."

"But, you have to believe him.  To believe me.  This is..."

Rumple cut in now, however.  "It's okay, Henry.  That's for later.  Go on, now," he gently urged the boy.

Henry looked at him, then back to Belle.  Understanding dawned in his eyes and he nodded, setting his book down and scurrying out of the shop.

Now just the two of them, Belle leveled a hard look at her estranged husband.  "I don't know what you're playing at here with Henry, but if you hurt him..."

He shook his head, exasperated.  "Belle, he's my _grandson_.  I would never hurt him," he told her, his voice now resigned and tired.

She wanted to believe in him, but she just couldn't.  Not after everything.  Not right now.  In that moment, she came to a snap decision.  Course chosen, she stormed ahead.  "I'm leaving," she said bluntly.

He stared at her.  "Leaving..?"

She wouldn't waver.  Not even when he looked at her so brokenly.  "Leaving," she repeated.  "Out of here.  Out of this.  Out of Storybrooke."  Her voice faltered slightly, but she couldn't back down now.  "I can't deal with any of this anymore.  To the others, I'm just a mobile research assistant.  To you, I'm just something to toy with.  I'm done."

He looked utterly floored.  "Belle," he said, his voice shaking.  "That's not true and you know it.  Sweetheart, I.."

"No!" she said stubbornly.  "Don't "sweetheart" me.  Not anymore."  She could see the pain on his face, but she couldn't step back this time.  Not this time.  "Please, just let me go," she pleaded, her voice gone small and desperate.

He turned away and for a moment she thought he was going to run away.  He only reached onto the back shelf, however, and picked up his car keys and a small scroll.  When he turned back around, she could see the beginnings of tears creeping down his cheek.  He kept himself mostly composed, however, and held the keys out to her.  She could see the struggle in his eyes.

"Take my car," he said, his voice trembling slightly around the edges.  "Our bank accounts are generously supplied.  You have resources to go anywhere in the world you'd like."

Belle tentatively took the keys from him.  She started to speak, but he held up a hand and continued.

"But after it all, if you wish to come back..."  He held out the scroll to her.  "... this will bring you  home."

She hesitated, her hand paused mid-way towards the little roll of parchment.  Something shifted within her, though, and she reached out and took the scroll from his hand.  Their fingertips brushed slightly and her heart was suddenly filled with remorse.  It was too late to turn back now, though.

"Thank you," she whispered, turning to leave.

"Belle," his voice called from behind her.  "I will always love you, no matter what."

She closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry or to lose resolve.  Taking a deep breath, she looked over her shoulder to him as long as she dared.  "I know."

She walked out of his shop and out of his life.  But even as she drove across the Storybrooke town line and out into the world, she couldn't shake that last image of Rumplestiltskin staring after her with such lonely love and such broken despair from her mind.


	7. Chapter 7

Three days later and Rumplestiltskin was at an impasse.  While Miss Swan and Regina were busy dismantling the town between them in their ongoing battle over the dagger--clearly, two Dark Ones were never meant to exist simultaneously for just this reason--he had been digging through every bit of magical literature and lore he could get his hands on to find some solution to this unfortunate situation.  His efforts were without much success.

It was only by sheer luck that neither of them had come to ransack his shop yet.  He knew, however, that such luck would not hold out forever.  Eventually one--or both!--of them would remember that he had a treasure trove of magical objects and potential weapons.  He was fairly certain that, despite having some minimal magic at his disposal, he would be hard pressed to fend either of them off for long--even if the Dark One's power had been split between them.  Both had come into their own as sorceresses before taking on the darkness, so there was no telling what unpleasant things they would visit upon him with both training and power at their disposal.

So he redoubled his efforts.  Burying himself in straightening this mess out had also helped, at least to some degree, take his mind off Belle.  It was still a gaping, raw wound, but there was nothing to be done for it.  She had gone across the town line and, according to his bank statement, had bought a plane ticket in Boston to some destination unknown.

Her departure made it increasingly hard to keep himself going, however.  Henry hadn't been by since Belle had inadvertently informed him of his mothers' current predicament, either.  He wondered if his family had advised him against coming to the shop.  It wouldn't be an unexpected result, really.

In a sudden fit of frustrated temper, he shoved the book he was searching through off the table.  It landed with a satisfying crash, knocking over some box of miscellaneous items and spilling them across the floor.

All this time and nothing!  There was little he could find that might safely both pull the darkness from Emma and Regina _and_ successfully trap it so that it couldn't get loose again.  Even worse, he wasn't entirely sure he _could_ even manage magic of this magnitude even if he did find a way.

He cast a glare at the Sorcerer's Hat.  That damned Hat!  He wished he'd never laid eyes upon it.  Clearly, even it wouldn't be sufficient to hold the darkness.  Had that hack Apprentice taken leave of his senses?  To be honest, he wasn't even sure there _was_ any way to store that amount of darkness outside a human host.  The human heart could be a far more resilient and strong force than any magically constructed device ever would be--

His thoughts were interrupted by the jingling bell of the front door.

He got to his feet, preparing to shout at the interloper that the shop was, most assuredly, _closed_.  Instead, he was intercepted by his grandson, who threw his arms around Rumplestiltskin and wept loudly.  Startled, he jerked away slightly but managed to keep his reaction under control.  "Henry?" he ventured.  "Are you alright?"

The sobbing grew louder and Rumplestiltskin had a sinking feeling that Henry had finally realized the hell that was having the Dark One for a parent.

Gently, he pried Henry's arms from his waist and led him over to a chair.  He found himself remembering how he would soothe Bae in troubled times, back in those years before he became the Dark One.  He drew on that dusty recollection now as he tried to soothe Bae's son.  "Tell me what's wrong, Henry."

And so Henry told him, amidst bouts of tears.  Apparently this little slugfest between his mothers was not without casualties.  Both Robin Hood and Hook were in the hospital.  There was no knowing which one had been targeted first, but as soon as one had been hurt, vengeance was swiftly exacted upon the other and both were in pretty bad shape.  

They were the fortunate ones, however.  Some of other townsfolk had tried to intervene and they were now permanent residents of the Storybrooke morgue.

Henry had been witness to more than any child should.

Rumplestiltskin's heart bled for him.  It was bad enough that Baelfire had been made to suffer this way by Rumplestiltskin's own mistakes, but now Bae’s son was caught in the same web too.  Henry, however, had not just one parent but _two_ ensnared by the darkness.  He knew with utter, anguished certainty that Baelfire would never have forgiven him for letting his son fall victim to this were he still alive.

Rumplestiltskin would be damned if he would let this stand.

At the end of his tale, Henry reached into his coat.  Still sniffling and with tears streaking down his cheeks, Henry withdrew a long knife from inside his jacket--the sight of the familiar hilt and wavy blade sending a chill down Rumplestiltskin's spine.

"I... I stole this from them," he managed, voice breaking.  Henry held the dagger out to him.  Rumplestiltskin could clearly see Emma's name emblazoned upon one side and Regina's on the other.  "Please... please find a way to help them," he sobbed quietly.

Carefully, he took the blade from Henry's hands, wondering what terrible risks the boy must have taken to steal it away.  The blade was so familiar and yet so alien with someone else's name upon it.  It was cold in his hands and now that he held it, he could suddenly hear the whispers buzzing loudly in his mind.  It was so startling that he nearly dropped the dagger in alarm.

In that moment, as he looked from the ancient dagger in his hands to his grandson, still crying brokenly, he knew with dreadful clarity what would have to be done--much though his mind recoiled at the very thought.

"Henry," he said, his voice stronger than he felt.  "I know how to help them both.  I need you to go home to David, though."

Henry looked at him through watery, yet clever eyes--so much like Baelfire's.  Rumplestiltskin got the distinct impression that Henry knew exactly what he was planning to do.

"Are you sure?" Henry asked him, but their eyes met and they both knew what he was really asking.

He took a breath, then nodded.  "I am.  I'll bring them back for you, I promise you that."  He wouldn't let Henry suffer the way Bae did.  Never.  "Now, please go home."

Henry nodded and rose from the chair, wiping at his eyes.  He started towards the door, but stopped and turned.  "Thank you, Grandpa," he said quietly.  "You may call yourself a villain, but you saved us from Pan before and now you will again.  You'll always be a hero to me."

And then he was gone, leaving Rumplestiltskin clutching the dagger and wishing what Henry said were true.

He looked down and stared at the hated dagger in his hands, still whispering its siren song of power and darkness.  How strange that now after centuries and after all that had transpired, he now desired neither.

He closed his eyes and took several long minutes to pull his resolve together.  He could do this.  He could.  Henry believed in him.

Rumplestiltskin opened his eyes.

He went to his workbench and shoved everything off of it and to the floor.  He laid the dagger on the bench, his hand still on the hilt.  Despite his absolute revulsion at using the dagger to control someone as he was once controlled, he wordlessly summoned them both to appear.

The effect was nearly instantaneous.  Both of them appeared in two separate clouds of dark smoke, their eyes both full of hate and fury.  At first their rage was directed at each other, assuming one had finally figured out how to control the other, but it quickly refocused on Rumplestiltskin once they figured out the truth.  Almost in unison, the two of them prepared to fire off magical attacks at him.  He had his hand on the dagger, however.  "Stop!" he commanded.

They stopped as if struck.  "Now, you two stay where you are, shut up, and listen to me," he told them.  "And don't move."

Without any choice, they did as they were told--silently fuming in impotent outrage.

"This has gone on long enough," he went on.  "And Henry is the one suffering.  I'm not going to let that happen.  He's not going to suffer the way Baelfire did."

His words were clearly cutting through their furor, at least a bit.  Rumplestiltskin knew better than anyone that even the Dark One could still feel love and even some remorse.  They needed to willingly shake the darkness back a little bit and Henry was the key.

"If you continue like this, he's going to be hurt.  And that hurt will never, ever go away.  You don't want that."

He could see the darkness in them both falter, ever so slightly.  That was the faint opening he was waiting for.  Quick as a viper, he reached forward and grabbed their wrists in each of his hands.  The last command had stuck, however, and they couldn't pull away.

"I'm putting a stop to this.  For Henry's sake.  And for your own."

He reached out with his own faded magic and sought out the ragged tendrils of darkness surrounding the pair of them.  This likely never would have worked had the darkness not been torn in two by Regina's failed spell.  It was those torn edges that his magic found and grasped, drawing them towards himself.

Emma and Regina watched eyes wide with realization, but did not fight him.

He tugged on the magic and it began to flow to him, far too quickly than he would have liked.  He had been a vessel for this darkness before, however, and it recognized a familiar home.  Dark tendrils curled around his hands and sank into him, burning like acid into his veins.

Rumple hissed through his teeth in pain.  He'd forgotten that it hurt.  He would not be deterred, though.  He pulled harder at it, despite the searing fire where it seeped back into his bones.  At first it poured into him swiftly, but as he pulled more of it away from Henry's mothers, it became more difficult and stubborn.  He had to fight to draw it into himself and the pain grew more intense.  He glanced down and saw their names draining away from the dagger.

A part of him wanted to run from this, to leave these two to their fate and live free of this darkness himself.  He had been free for very briefly, barely long enough to enjoy it.  But, no.  He would do this.  He would do it to spare Bae's son a life of misery.  This thought alone put steel in his spine and he gave the magic one last hard tug and felt it tear loose from the two women before him.  It snapped back into him and he let out a strangled gasp, releasing both their hands.  He stumbled backwards a few steps and collapsed heavily against the wall, breathing in ragged gasps and his mind reeling with the sudden clamor of dark voices once more.

Sitting untouched on the workbench, his name rose up to the surface of the dagger.

He closed his eyes, trying to re-center himself as the darkness re-assimilated back into him again.  The rush of power and fury was overwhelming after weeks without it.  It tugged at his soul, trying to drag him down.  He felt himself slipping into it.  Slipping--

"Rumple?"

He opened his eyes to find Regina beside him, unanticipated worry on her face.  She jumped slightly in surprise when his eyes opened and if it was because they had briefly flickered into something more reptilian as the darkness settled in him, before fading again to a gentler human shade, he would never know.

He flinched as she put a hesitant hand on his arm, yet another unexpected gesture from her.  "Are you okay?" she asked him and for a moment he thought she might actually be sincere in asking.

He waved her off, catching his breath.  "'tis nothing," he said, although his voice was more than a little rough.  "Your son is waiting for you--for both of you--with Charming.  Go."

Never one to mince words, Regina simply nodded and stood up.  She shot Emma a rather loaded glance and some unspoken communication passed between the two of them.

Regina started for the door and Emma joined her, but not before Emma turned to him with the most openly grateful look she'd ever given him.  "Thank you," she whispered, her gratitude clearly genuine.  Then Henry's two mothers hurriedly left to find their son and hopefully reconcile things, leaving Rumplestiltskin alone with his dark thoughts.


	8. Chapter 8

Three days passed in which not a soul came to the shop.  Perhaps the "closed" sign was actually working for once.  Or perhaps word had spread that he was the Dark One again.

Rumplestiltskin sat in the backroom, where he'd barely left since he'd sent Miss Swan and Regina off.  A half-empty bottle of Scotch sat beside him and he was well on his way to making it a fully empty bottle.  A crystal lowball glass full of amber liquid in one hand, he stared despondently at the dagger in the other.  His name was once again inscribed across it like a harbinger of cruel fate.

Bae was gone.  Belle had left.  And all he had remaining was this damned dagger.

The bell jingled above the front door.  He bristled.

"Fuck off, we're closed!" he snapped with more vitriol than usual.  He was in no mood to deal with gawkers and if they had any sense, they would hightail it the hell out.

He heard footsteps in the storefront, heading towards the back.  He started to his feet with a growl.  "Are you deaf _and_ stupid?  I said..."

Regina and Emma emerged from the front room.  He aborted his attempt to rise and slumped back into his chair morosely.  "Oh, it's you."

The pair of them glanced at the half-empty bottle, then shared a look.  When did they start communicating like an old married couple, he wondered half-heartedly.  Well, he thought idly, they did make a nice couple at least.  Better than that damn pirate.

Then their eyes fell on the dagger gripped in his hand.  He noticed and instinctively clutched it tighter.

It was Emma who spoke up.  "I can still hear it, you know," she began quietly, a little uneasy.  "The dagger.  Why do I still hear it?"

He shrugged.  "You two are now part of a very elite club--you are both former Dark Ones who are somehow still alive," he said flippantly, although perhaps with a shade of bitterness in his voice.  "I expect the effect will fade with time.  You were barely the Dark One for a month, after all."

The fact that they had both wreaked all sorts of ungodly havoc in that time was left unsaid.

"How did you do it, Gold?"  Emma again.  "How did you deal with that for _centuries_ without going crazy?  Without losing your soul?"

Who says I didn't, he thought silently.  Or maybe those were the voices.  He couldn't tell and didn't care at the moment.  The whisky was making him a little fuzzy around the edges.

Oddly enough, he found himself answering honestly just the same.  "I held onto hope that one day my family would be together again."  Bae.  He did this-- _again_ \--for Bae and Bae's son.

"And now Neal is gone," Emma said softly.

"Yes, Miss Swan."

Regina and Emma shared another look.  Damn it all, he felt as if he was being manipulated here somehow but he was too wrung out to be bothered.

"Rumple," it was Regina speaking now.  "You still have family.  _We_ are your family now."

Emma picked it up now.  "I know we've said it before, but never fully followed through.  But Henry connects us all together and we're not going to forget what you did for us.  Not this time."

"Hell, for as twisted as it all was, you've been a fixture in my life since I was a little girl.  We were already practically family," Regina continued with a smirk.

He couldn't help but bark out a laugh at that, ridiculous as it was.

"Seriously," Emma went on, giving Regina a stern look and leveling a finger at Rumplestiltskin.  "You're part of this family now and we damn well aren't going to let let you forget it either."

Something in the fierceness of her gaze suddenly seemed reminiscent of the Emma who had come to Storybrooke like a whirlwind to break the curse.  The Emma that had taken a chainsaw to the mayor's apple tree.  A woman who was determined and would not be swayed.  It was actually rather refreshing.  She had apparently bounced back to herself fairly well, although he knew that nobody bore this curse without being scarred by it in some way.  They all shared that now.

Something changed between them in that moment.  He cracked a half smile and pushed his glass away, unfinished, on the table.

"How can I argue with such polite discourse, Miss Swan?" he shot back at her, with an almost playful sarcasm.

She rolled her eyes.  "Oh, save it."

"Nine o'clock," Regina broke in smoothly.  "Henry wants you to join us for dinner at Granny's."

He recalled another conversation with Regina from what seemed a long time ago.  "An invitation to dinner, dearie?" he said with a smirk.

Now it was her turn to roll her eyes at him, although good-naturedly.  "Would you rather just gather dust with the other ancient relics in this little museum of yours?  Haul yourself up and just be there," she chided him.

"As you wish," he quipped back with his usual caustic charm.

They all knew he'd be there.

 


	9. Epilogue

_One year later..._

Belle was coming home.

Her stomach was full of butterflies as she pulled the scroll out of the Cadillac's glovebox and the the town line shimmered into view.

Henry had texted her many months ago, letting her know that Emma and Regina were back to normal and the town was safe to return to.  A few days later, he'd texted again to tell her that Rumple was the Dark One again.  She assumed he had waited, hoping she would come straight back after the first text.

She was in Lima, Peru at the time, so there was no quick return had she even wanted to, and once she received the second text she had turned the phone off altogether.  She was unhappy and disappointed and didn't even want to think about it.

The rest of the year she had spent traveling.  Rumple's bank account was nearly bottomless, thanks to Regina's initial curse, and this world was far more vast than she had imagined.  She had seen the wonders of Machu Picchu.  She explored Mayan ruins in Copán.  She had walked along the Great Wall of China.  She went snorkeling on the Great Barrier Reef in Australia.  She had spent a month in Paris and another in Madrid.  She took a boat to the Galapagos Islands.  But no matter how far away she traveled, everywhere she went she saw things that reminded her of home.  Of him.

Finally, after a week in Scotland, she just couldn't take it anymore.  She dropped the rest of her plans, went straight to the airport and bought a seat on the first flight back to Boston.  Once there, she pulled the Cadillac out of storage and set off for Storybrooke without delay.

Now she sat in his Cadillac, parked on the street across from the shop and bathed in the orange sodium glow of the streetlamps.  Nervously, she stared through the windshield at the shop's door.  The sign was flipped, but there were lights on inside.  He must be there.

Finally, she pulled together her courage and walked across the street.  Despite the "closed" sign, the door was unlocked.  She pulled it open and stepped inside, the familiar smell of the shop returning to her like an old friend.  The bell jingled merrily, but it must have gone unheard in the back.

She heard multiple voices from the back room.  Curious, yet cautious, she approached to listen.

"Damn it, Gold.  You cheated!"  That sounded like Emma.

"Is that so, Miss Swan?  Perhaps you should look to your own first."  There was no mistaking Rumple's smooth reply.

She thought she heard Regina's vicious laughter now.

Righteous indignation started to bubble up in Belle.  Was he really back to his old ways, cheating the heroes again?  And luring Regina into it again as well?  _Really?!_   She started to stomp towards the back and pulled the curtain aside to peer inside.  What she saw stopped her cold, though.

They were playing cards.  Cards!

Chairs had been pulled around the workbench.  Rumple sat with his back to the door, facing off against Regina and Emma.  Regina was tugging at the cards in Emma's hand.

"Ha!  You do know there are only _four_ aces in a standard deck of cards, don't you Emma?" Regina was saying.  "You ought to know this better than anyone, seeing as you were raised in this ridiculous little world!"

Emma snorted.  "Yeah, well in this ridiculous world they don't use magic to stack the deck either!"  She cast a glare at Rumple, who laughed in turn.

"My, my.  Such sour grapes, dearie," he needled her, "and just because you're losing so spectacularly tonight.  Even your miraculous _five_ aces can't save you now!"

"Yeah, well I don't see how you can have a royal flush while _I'm_ holding all those aces," Emma grumbled back.

Belle watched this scene unfold with silent bewilderment.  They were laughing and teasing and Rumple seemed at ease.  Afraid to say a word that might break this fragile tableau, she was so far unnoticed by the trio of card players.  She didn't go unnoticed altogether, however.  As she cast her gaze around the scene before her, she suddenly found herself locking eyes with Henry, who was curled up in a chair and had been scribbling away in a notebook with a pencil.  The page was nearly full of text in rather neat lines of precise script for a teenager.  He looked at her for a long moment over the notebook with unexpectedly clever and calculating eyes, so like his grandfather's.  He'd grown up quite a bit in a year, Belle realized.

She thought to motion him to silence, but he wasn't going to have any of that apparently.  "Hey, Belle!" he announced brightly.

Now officially busted, she glanced back to the table.  Regina and Emma looked up at her with keen interest, but it was Rumple who she was watching.  His back stiffened in surprise and he turned in his chair slowly.  "Belle?" he said, voice thick.

Caught unprepared, she just nodded and they stared silently at each other for what seemed like an eternity.

Regina broke through the quiet like cannon fire.  "Well then, poker night is over!" she proclaimed.  She and Emma shared a glance.  And when did they get so chummy, Belle wondered.  Regina then shot a look at Henry that only a mother could master.  "C'mon.  You too, young man."

Henry let out a theatrical sigh.  "Ooookay," he drawled with all the typical attitude of a teenager.  But the sly look he gave Belle gave away the act.  He closed his notebook and hopped off the chair.  "See ya later, Grandpa!" he said pointedly.

Emma put her arm around Henry's shoulder and lead him out the door.  As Emma passed, she gave Belle what could only be described as the hairy eyeball.  Regina ushered them out in the rear, but paused by Belle to lean in close and whisper a warning to her.  "Don't you dare break his heart again," she sternly commanded, just out of Rumple's earshot.

Utterly stunned, Belle just stared as Regina swept out the room and she heard the front door shut behind them.

Alone now in the room, Rumple rose from his chair--she noticed that his limp was again gone--and stepped towards her.

"You came back," he said in disbelief and suddenly she felt as if she were back in the Dark Castle again all those years ago.

"I did," she said, voice small.  "I'm home."

He reached a tentative hand to her.  He touched her cheek reverently, then drew back as if uncertain.

"Belle," he began, "I have to tell you something..."

She took his hand in hers, silencing his confession.  "Rumple, I know.  You're the Dark One again.  Henry told me."   She glanced back at the front door, where Henry and his family had just departed.  "I think… I think I understand why now, though."

She stepped closer to him now, his hand still clasped in hers.  She felt a thrill run down her spine at being near him once more.

He was looking at her with hopeful, yet deeply wary, eyes.  With time, she had come to realize that she had hurt him as much as he had hurt her--and yet he still looked at her with hope.  If he was willing to forgive, so too would she.

They were close now, with only a sliver of space between them.  Belle could feel his warm breath on her.  She wasn't sure how they came to be so near, but she wouldn't pull away now.

"Why did you come back?" he breathed, echoing words spoken so long ago.

This time, she answered as she should have in the first place.  No games, no dissembling, no dancing around it.  Just the honest truth.  If they tried this again.  If this was ever going to work, this time it had to be this way.

"Rumplestiltskin, I love you.”

The space between them closed.

"Oh, Belle.  I love you too.”

The road was never going to be easy, but after all... True Love had to be fought for.


End file.
